Steele Dreaming
by RJ Harrington
Summary: Laura can't escape her torrid dreams with Remington Steele despite all efforts. The nights of passion and ecstasy haunt her to his delight. Can Remington Steele make her dreams come true?
1. Chapter 1

_A special thank you to Mrs. Peppler for her insight, editing and most especially her dreams._

Steele Dreaming

Vol. 3; Ch. 1

By R.J. Harrington,

"No … I can't do this." Laura said in short breaths as she pushed away.

"Laura?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but I've worked too hard … for my agency, for my reputation. I can't just throw it all away for a moment of ple…"

"Pleasure."

"I have to go."

"Laura, wait. You're being ridiculous." Remington caught her before she reached the door. He grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. "Why does it have to be one or the other, eh? Who says you can't be successful and satisfied?"

"That's all this is to you isn't it? A romp in the hay to satisfy your curiosities."

"Is that what you think? You think I would make love to you simply to satisfy some lustful fantasy? What a lot of tosh. If that's what you think, then maybe you _should_ leave. You obviously don't know me as well as I thought."

A tear streamed down Laura's face despite her need to seem unaffected. She stared at him in silence, then forced a whispered response. "Maybe, you're right. I should go."

They wanted to say so much; to stop the battle and enjoy the moment just needing one another and satisfying their urges. But, Laura couldn't. She wanted to scream, to cry, to hug him, to kiss him, to hit him. How did he get so deep under her skin?

Without a word, she turned and walked through the door of the condo, closing it behind her.

Remington picked up a glass vase and threw it against the wall, shattering it and sending a crashing thud down the hallway. The noise reached Laura as the elevator doors closed and she burst into tears.

_Why can't you just tell him how you feel? Why is this so hard? You're playing a game, Laura, and you're going to lose. Tell him, tell him, tell him… _

_**BZZZZ BZZZZ**_

Laura reached for the buzzer on her alarm clock and sat up reeling from her dream. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun with a band she'd laid on her nightstand and headed for the kitchen.

She poured her first cup of coffee and set it on the breakfast table, then walked to the front of her loft and pulled back the heavy door to retrieve the newspaper. She tried to read about a farmer's market opening down the block and a story about gang violence gone bad, but her mind was distracted. All she kept hearing was _tell him, tell him._

"Uhhh!" She walked to the shower, hoping steam and relaxing heat would wash away the demons, but no luck. _What is going on with me? _She had to get this under control. She was headed for the office within the hour and he surely would recognize her reticence. He would prod her until he figured it out, and then all was lost. He'd have her cornered.

And, how was she going to explain her other dreams? The first three didn't involve stopping him, quite the contrary. They had groped and banged against the wall, tearing at each other's clothes and breathing in rhythm. She tore open his shirt, popping the buttons from their thread as she went. At least her clothing had stayed intact so far. _Why did he have to be so damn sexy? Why couldn't I have met a slightly attractive, stable, somewhat boring bloke who liked to steal jewels and assume people's identities?_ _Of course not. I had to attract a man whose magnetism calls to me in every way._

"Uhhh!" She downed the last of her second cup of coffee and opened her closet to get dressed.

"Something matronly; something exceedingly normal," she muttered to herself. Laura searched for five minutes, trying to find the right outfit that would keep her partner from looking at her the way he did, as if he could see beyond her v-neck blouse or a few inches above her tailored skirt. Triumphantly, Laura pulled out an old dress that her mother had given her a few years back. Abigail had found it at a going-out-of-business sale and thought it would be "just perfect" for her youngest daughter. It was a flowery number with a ribbon belt around the middle. It definitely did not cry: "Have sex with me."

She wiggled it over her head and into place, then slid on her pantyhose and heels before wrapping the pink ribbon around her middle and tying the bow on the side. She glanced in the mirror and gently laughed. "This has to do the trick." It certainly wasn't her usual attire and screamed more Frances than Laura. She headed down the stairs to her living room to grab her briefcase and one last sip of coffee before turning off the pot.

As she drove the back streets of LA, she flipped on the radio to catch the morning show of KROT, but the DJs were apparently on vacation. In their place was a "best of" retrospective that left a lot to be desired. She pressed the next button.

_"…tell me, before I fall in love…"_

She punched the next button.

_"Two hearts, two hearts beating as one, my life has just begun…"_

"Uhhh." She switched off the radio and turned into the parking garage of Century Towers. Laura hesitantly stepped from the elevator and stood down the hallway from Remington Steele Investigations. She took a deep breath and softly talked to herself to prepare for seeing him. "OK, you're fine. It was only a dream. You can do this."

"Do what?"

"Ah!" Laura whipped around to find Remington standing behind her. He was still waiting for an answer.

"Do what, Laura?"

"Uh, face my mother. I've got to call her today to talk about her next trip to California. And, you know how much I love talking my mother." She smiled awkwardly. Remington squinted his eyes in confusion, not sure what to say, but, he could tell something was wrong. _Oh, God, he knows. I knew this would happen. Way to go, Laura. You can't even keep your fake life in order. _

"Were you heading for the office?"

"Yes, the office." Laura led the way with her ever-guessing boss close behind. "Good morning, Mildred," she offered before heading to her office, rushing so fast she didn't hear Mildred's response or offer a reply. She swung the door shut in a whoosh of air.

"Something's up with our Miss Holt," Remington offered as he turned to Mildred.

"You're telling me. What are we going to do, boss?"

"I'm not sure, but whatever it is has her talking to herself and fumbling like a school girl every time I look at her."

Mildred smiled. She leaned over the desk from her chair. "Well, the last time I saw someone act like that was when my nephew had a crush on a college girl and was too flustered to talk to her."

Remington smiled deviously. "A crush, eh?" He looked at Laura's closed office door and headed for his with one last turn to Mildred. "Hold my calls."

"Sure thing, boss."

A moment later, Remington opened the red connecting door to Laura's office and stood in the doorway. "Everything OK, Miss Holt?"

"Yes, everything is fine," she said, keeping her head buried in paperwork.

Remington walked to her desk and perched on the edge. "Are you sure? You seem a little distracted."

"Everything is fine. I just have a lot of cases to catch up on….and my mother."

"Right, your mother." Remington put his fingers to his mouth in contemplation and lifted from the desk to stand behind her. "I thought maybe after you talked to your mother, we could have lunch?"

"Today? I don't know." Her head still bowed.

"Come on, Laura, you must live a little, let go, carpe diem, saisir l'occasion."

Laura didn't speak; she just rapidly started flipping through files. Remington grabbed the last one and laid it next to her. "Laura?"

"Nothing is wrong, OK." She looked up at him and froze. Those blue eyes were staring at her with glints of golden sunlight. His thick black hair framed his strong jaw and plump, moist lips.

"Uhhh!" She jumped from her desk and headed into the lobby. "Mildred, what's on the schedule for today?"

Remington followed and stood behind her, watching her move in frustration, to his great pleasure. Mildred flipped the page of the schedule book.

"Nothing, Miss Holt. Mr. Casswell rescheduled because of a family emergency and we aren't expected at the Thornton Estate until tomorrow."

"It appears you are available for lunch, Miss Holt." Remington chimed.

"Please, Mr. Steele, just because we don't have clients to meet, doesn't mean there isn't work to be done. … Mildred, can you bring me the Harken file?"

Mildred grabbed the case file and floated toward Laura's office, winking at Remington as she passed. His face wrinkled into a mischievous grin as he formulated his next move.

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

Steele Dreaming

Vol. 3; Ch. 2

By R.J. Harrington,

Laura stayed tucked away in her office all afternoon, not venturing into Remington's even for a signature. The stack of manila folders shrank from one side of her desk to build on the other. She'd whipped through at least a month's worth of security contracts, federal forms and old case files, alphabetizing as she went.

She picked up the last folder and glanced at the clock. It was 5:13 p.m.; surely he had left by now. He was in by 10 and out by 4 most days, so anything after 5 would be a late night.

The door opened. Laura jumped. It was Mildred.

"I'm going to head out, Miss Holt. See you in the morning."

"Bye, Mildred."

She wanted to ask whether the "boss" had already packed up for the evening, but she was too afraid Mildred would catch on and pummel her with questions. She laid her head onto her folded arms on her desk and closed her eyes. She hadn't gotten much meaningful sleep the last two nights, waking every few hours to escape her progressively detailed dreams about Remington Steele. As she contemplated ways to relax once she got home, she drifted off to sleep.

Her hazy subconscious remembered that the subject of her fantasies had been merely a door away for the better part of the day and her fantasizing brain zeroed in on the smallest details of her encounters with him.

Previously, her dreams had focused on his body -- hard, warm and beautifully sculpted. Now she could feel his phantom hands floating through her hair, skimming the edge of her jaw and dropping just once to caress her breast. Once, early last year and before she'd had the sense to set some boundaries, he'd unerringly found the peak as they'd indulged in a torrid kiss. In her dreams she could feel that fleeting touch again and she leaned into his hands for more. Her hands clutched his shoulders and then his face, wanting to feel his mouth where his fingertips had strayed. He said her name and she smiled. He said it again and she could feel his hand on her wrist. So warm … she had goosebumps from the contact.

"Laura!" The dream switched to Remington's voice and startled Laura awake. She sucked air suddenly and wiped the side of her mouth, hoping she hadn't drooled.

She blinked her eyes to focus and found Remington leaning on the file cabinets with a grin. She straightened her jacket and reached for a few folders stacked on the edge of her desk.

"Just finishing up a few cases," she said as she walked to the cabinets.

Remington's smile grew as Laura struggled to act as if nothing was happening. He peered over the drawer she had extended between them.

"Eventually, you're going to have to tell me what this is all about, Laura."

"What what is all about?"

Remington followed Laura to her desk and back to the file cabinets.

"This. Sleeping in your office, avoiding me like the plague and what was all of that groaning coming from the office a few minutes ago?"

_Oh, God, groaning? I was groaning? _

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Remington smiled and leaned against her desk.

"Alright Laura. No pressure. You can talk to me about your crush whenever you're ready," Remington said as he pushed from the edge of her desk and walked back into his office.

Laura froze for a moment before bursting into his office to refute his claim. He was reading the newspaper, or at least pretending to read the newspaper, with his feet propped on the desk.

"I don't know where you get your information, Mr. Steele, but…."

Remington lowered the corner of the newspaper and lifted his eyebrows waiting for the rest of her statement; his annoying grin piercing her flesh.

"Alright, you want to know what I've been doing? Why I haven't been able to sleep for a week? Why I am perilously close to not wanting to sleep at all?"

"Buggered, eh?"

"Dreams, Mr. Steele. I have been having increasingly disturbing dreams."

"You didn't seem too disturbed a few minutes ago when you were saying my name."

"What?"

Remington smiled and Laura's face flushed with embarrassment. She squinted her eyes and huffed at him, then walked back to her office. She gathered up her briefcase and a few files and headed out her door. Remington met her in the lobby as she rushed passed.

"Goodnight, Mr. Steele."

"Lau-ra, wait. It's OK. Come o-n."

Laura continued to the elevators. Remington returned to his office.

His joy at her fantasies about him was now mixed with a pang of pity. She really was struggling. He decided the only way to stop her torture was to help her, and that's exactly what he was going to do….tonight.

To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 3

Steele Dreaming

Vol. 3; Ch. 3

By R.J. Harrington,

Laura leaned under the flow of water and smoothed her hair from her face as the shower washed the suds over her body. She soaked in the comfort of the vibrating streams that worked to relieve the tension from her muscles. She hadn't planned another trip to bathe, but she needed to relax before attempting sleep.

Her breathing slowed to shallow gasps and her eyes closed. As her mind wandered into a daydream she felt the faint touch of hands on her bare shoulders and a whisper in her hair. He was standing behind her letting his fingers glide, dip and sample the nooks and crannies of her body. She lost track of time reliving every moment he'd ever touched her, kissed her … held her. Her imagination took her beyond where the memories ended.

Without warning, the dream vanished as she was drenched in ice.

Startled, Laura's eyes popped open and she reached for the handle to turn for warmth, but found none. She had used every bit of hot water. _How long have I been in here? _She was short of breath and her heart was thumping in her chest. She turned off the water and opened the door. The room was so thick with steam she could hardly make out the mint green towel on the bar. She snatched the towel and gently patted her skin dry, then wrapped it around her hair.

She cleared steam from a spot on the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her cheeks were flush and her skin glistening. She sighed. She grabbed her baby blue terrycloth robe and walked to her bedroom to slip on a gown. She decided to forego undergarments until she cooled from the humidity. She picked up a worn paperback from the nightstand and headed for the chair in the living room, plopping into the cushion. She slung her legs over the side and leaned against the back, positioning the pages under the lamp.

Just as she found where she'd left off, a loud pounding struck the door. Frustrated, she snatched her robe from the couch and slowly walked to the entrance, turning the lock and sliding it open.

"Ah, Laura. At home on a Friday night I see," Remington walked past her and studied the loft, searching for signs of other roosters in the hen house.

Laura stepped back and watched him pass. "And, hello to you too."

"The intrigue. The love of a man and a woman, struggling to fulfill their promise; their destiny intertwined with fate." Remington said nonsensically as he headed for the wine rack in the kitchen.

"A little dramatic wouldn't you say, Mr. Steele?"

"Nothing of the sort, Miss Holt. The poetry of love is all consuming. It gnaws at the seed of passion, begging for release." By now, Remington was nearly yelling his prose from the kitchen as he clamored in the drawer for a cork screw. "Ah, here we are."

"You should have called. I might have been out." Laura said as she rounded the corner and stood beside him, arms crossed.

"Yes, well, I saw the Rabbit, and you didn't mention plans as you rushed from the office this evening."

As he balanced the wine bottle on the counter and plunged the twisted metal inside, Laura leaned against the edge. "I'll have you know I _do_ have plans, very elaborate plans."

"Umm. Hmm." Remington popped the cork.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Do you mind grabbing a couple of those glasses?" he said, gesturing with his elbow.

Laura retrieved the red wine glasses from behind the matching champagne flutes and set them next to the bottle. Remington filled the goblets, handed one to Laura and turned to walk to the couch with Laura in tow. She remained standing at the arm of the chair as he sat on the couch, placing the bottle on the table.

_Who the hell does he think he is, showing up at my home, breaking open a bottle of my wine and taking over my evening?_ She wanted to speak, but there was something irresistible about his brashness. He knew what he was doing and small things such as personal boundaries and correctness weren't going to get in his way.

"Care to join me, Miss Holt?" Remington leaned into the cushions with goblet in hand and legs crossed. Laura smirked at his audacity. She sat in the chair with her legs pulled up beside her. Remington lifted his glass and moved it toward her. "To an evening full of surprises."

"Don't forget your seeds of passion, Mr. Steele."

"And to seeds of passion." Remington gently tapped his glass against Laura's, then sat back to sip the wine. "Very good vintage. Someone has excellent taste in aged cabernet."

"I got the bottle from you."

Remington smiled, drawing a laugh from Laura. He sat up with pride, immensely satisfied with his ability to break Laura's barriers and lighten her mood. He noticed the book on the table, and reached for the novel. In a panic, Laura snatched it before Remington's fingers could reach.

"That wouldn't happen to be a romance novel would it?"

"Certainly not. It's a collection of works from 18th Century French poets."

"I see." Remington smiled.

Laura quickly set her glass on the table and stashed the book under the cushion of the chair before sitting back down. "What are you doing here, Mr. Steele?"

"I thought I would help you out of your predicament."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come now, Laura, you and I both know what's going on here. You have a crush on me, which is certainly understandable."

"A crush!? You think this is about a crush? You underestimate me, Mr. Steele."

"Then, perhaps an explanation is in order."

"An explanation? You want an explanation?" Exasperated, Laura stood and began to pace with one hand propped on her hip and the other on her forehead. Every two turns along her route, she stopped and looked at Remington, then shook her head and continued pacing. Remington simply watched with anticipation. He noticed she no longer wore her robe and was merely clad in a thin nightgown – which when she stood in the right light appeared to have nothing underneath.

Finally, Laura stopped and sat on the edge of the coffee table facing Remington on the couch. She reached to touch his hand, then quickly let go. She clasped her hands in her lap with her head bowed. _Why is he just staring at me? Doesn't he know how hard this is for me? Or maybe he does know and is enjoying it too much? God, I just want to push him against the couch and …. _Laura looked up_. _

She caught his eyes sparkling in the lamplight with a genuine look of concern. "Laura?" He tilted his head and leaned toward her.

_Don't think; just do it. Tell him. Tell him. _

"I want y … what I'm trying to say is, well, you are … Oh hell." She shoved off the edge of the table and planted her lips on his, pushing him to the back of the couch, and nearly out of reach. She climbed onto her knees and straddled him as their kiss deepened. He moved his hands up her thighs, leaving Laura suddenly aware of her nakedness. She clambered to her feet and quickly walked to the other side of the table.

She stared at him, struggling for air and smoothing her hair into place. Remington returned her wanton glare as he stood and walked around the table. Without hesitation, he took her face in his hands and leaned to kiss her. She kept her arms at her side, letting him caress her face and hair and lips before succumbing to his desire and pulling him to her. They feverishly groped until the kiss waned and their lips parted.

Laura glanced up at him and gently kissed his lips once more before walking away. "I can't do this."

"Why not?"

"Because I have a hard enough time controlling you as it is. Can you imagine if we cross that line?

"What are you afraid of Laura?"

She turned around to look at him in silence, knowing she didn't have a rational reason for her hesitation. They gazed at each other still trying to catch their breath. "I'm afraid you'll leave me."

Remington didn't know what to say. The depth of honesty was a little unexpected. He'd hoped to merely tease Laura about her dreams and help her get past them by forcing them into the open. He didn't expect this. "Laura, I know I can't make guarantees, at least not the ones you want to hear, but I'm here aren't I? I've had plenty of chances to lead you astray, to follow the next opportunity, to go off with Daniel on another wild scheme – but I haven't. I've stayed here with you. Doesn't that count for anything?"

Laura bowed her head and fidgeted with her hands. "Do you know why I've been avoiding you?"

"I can venture a guess as to why."

"Those dreams. Those damn dreams."

"What's so horrible about them?"

"They involve more than your run-of-the-mill detective work, Mr. Steele." Remington didn't say a word; afraid to spoil what he hoped came next. "They, um, well, they are, uh, very erotic," she looked up at Remington and trapped his stare. His mouth hung open slightly and he wasn't breathing. "They are with you."

Remington was paralyzed. _Did she say what I think she said?_ He couldn't speak.

"Well, say something."

"Laura, I didn't know, I mean I didn't think it was that bad."

"Well, it's not; that's the problem."

"But, I thought you wanted to eradicate these fantasies, banish them as it were."

"They frighten me a little, but they are also very passionate and …" she paused, "enjoyable."

Remington smiled.

"Don't laugh."

"I'm sorry. No doubt you need to be alone. I have merely exacerbated the situation." Remington swilled the last of his wine and grabbed his overcoat. "See you in the morning, Miss Holt."

Just as Remington reached the door to the loft, Laura spoke quietly. "Don't go."

Remington stopped and slowly turned around. He stared at her as a wave of desire rushed through him. His brain told him to say goodbye and keep walking. Laura was clearly unsure about what she wanted. But, his heart -- in agreement with the rest of his body -- couldn't wait to touch her. He could express in deeds what he couldn't express in words. Just as his heart was winning the battle, Laura smiled. It was sweet and youthful and longing. The tinge of hesitation vanished. Remington threw his coat on the piano bench and walked within inches of Laura. He touched her shoulder and slid his hand down her arm until he reached her hand. He lifted it to kiss it, never losing eye contact.

"You're the woman of _my_ dreams, Laura." She smiled, then stared at the floor. He raised her chin with his fingertips and grinned. "But, I can wait. God knows I don't want to, but I can."

Laura was stunned. She certainly didn't expect that. But, he wasn't the only one with a choice here. She leapt into action.

"Well, _I_ can't!"

She threw her arms around his neck and dove into a kiss that skipped gentle and went straight to passionate. She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him to her, and pushed onto her toes. The kiss continued until she could no longer breathe. They broke the connection and watched each other mentally work through what they were about to do.

Laura smiled and grabbed Remington's hand. She led him up the stairs to her bedroom and stopped beside the bed. She slowly pulled his belt from his waist and watched his reaction as she unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hands inside to stroke his chest.

"What about your plans, Miss Holt?" Remington said with a smile.

"They just got a lot more interesting."

"And, if your dreams are any indication, a lot more passionate."

"Just shut up and kiss me."

So, he did.

The End


End file.
